Blackbird Song
by Euphemismforsomething
Summary: Pack your things. Leave somehow. No more time for crying dear. - Hetalia x Walking Dead AU. Rated for Language, Controversial Subjects, and Violence/Gore/Deaths. Features Nyo and 2P characters as well.
1. CH:1 Proceed With Caution

_Change is inevitable_

_Change is Constant_

_-Benjamin Disraeli_

* * *

_22 May, 2014_

Alfred had to duck to avoid the phone book aimed at his head with remarkable accuracy. He grimaced when he saw the dent left in the motel wall. That was going to go on his credit card after checkout. Wonderful.

"Look, sis, I just wanted you to come out here with me." He pleaded his case while still crouched behind the far side of the queen-sized bed, his hands white-knuckled in the ugly 'My-Grandma-Wouldn't-Even-Buy-This' quilt. This was no time for letting his guard down. Not with the blonde bombshell itching to go off near the door, stance wide and all kinds of ready to bury him out behind the shoddy establishment at that very moment.

"They told me you were in a car wreck." Amelia seethed, looking down upon the scum of the earth shivering near the floor. Her southern accent pronounced as she berated him. "You had a random stranger call and tell me you were _dying_." She looked ready to carry that prediction out now. You couldn't blame her for not using the caller ID, she had been a bit preoccupied at the time. When an unfamiliar voice calls and tells her that the only flesh and blood she gives a damn about anymore is slowly bleeding out on a hospital gurney in the middle of Mount Sinai Emergency, a girl has other things on her mind. Like where her keys are and the quickest path from Dallas to New York City via a monster two wheeled powerhouse. Who knew you could make the drive in just around eighteen hours if you broke every traffic law and made a few bad moral choices? Strangely enough, the roads had been fairly clear all the way up, not that she had really been complaining.

Alfred, in fact, knew _exactly_ what had been said. He'd been standing off to the side, after all, fighting between the urge to laugh or take the phone back and apologize for the cruel joke. However, he really felt his sister needed a break and when he met her at the hospital entrance, smile wide and perfectly fine, he told her that. He'd hoped her relief would have negated any following bad consequences. The way she stayed quiet until they made it inside his cheap motel in what could only be considered the 'projects' of East Harlem should have been an immediate red flag.

He had originally tried to take his twin along with him on his 'Amazing Road-Trip Across America, Boo-Yah' from the get-go but she didn't want to have any part in it, citing that her new job wouldn't allow for her to take such a long leave just a few weeks after being hired. Alfred had just packed up and taken off, deciding his college fund was just collecting dust and the twenty two year old needed one last hoorah before he tossed himself out in the working world as well. He didn't know how his sister managed to take both business classes and hold a part-time at the local diner. He knew she hated it anyway, so why didn't she just quit?

Honestly, he didn't get her and he currently didn't have time to, not with a ragged King James Version on a collision course for his unprotected face. He ducked, getting clipped by the corner just above his left temple. Yelping, he hit the ground with a thud, groaning more from knocking all the air from himself than the small brush with his scalp.

"They said you flipped you truck six times…and I get here to find it's just a faulty alternator?" She let out a breathy laugh that held no hint of amusement. "You're a real fucking piece of work."

Alfred mumbled something incoherent, struggling to peek over the bed before attempting to speak again. "I couldn't get ya out here any other way. You needed to chillax, 'Milly."

She gave him a dark look. "No. I need a drink." With that, she made to leave only to hear panicked rustling behind her.

"Whoa. It's like eight. Sun's down and we aren't in Texas anymore." Alfred warned, looking concerned. It was kind of his fault he had picked one of the worst areas to set up shop while his truck was getting repaired.

"And I'm not sixteen, mother." She hissed back, creating an unpleasant ambience.

He flinched, recognizing that tone of voice. "'Well at least don't do anything stupid, like go home with some drunk guy at the bar."

Amelia flashed him a quick 'catch me if you can' grin before slamming the door behind her.

* * *

_23 May, 2014_

When she woke up the next morning, all she could do was steeple her fingers and silently pat herself on the back. Well, the at least it wasn't some drunk guy from the bar.

Oh yes. Now cue the sudden screech of terror and 'morning after' regret.

"Fuck. I thought you were done screamin', Sugar-Tits." A New York dialect groaned from beside her.

With the agility of a three legged dog on ice, Amelia scrambled from the bed, falling onto the floor and grabbing for as much of the duvet as she could to make herself decent.

A tanned redhead sat up, looking down at her with his oddly colored eyes, brow cocked, with a mixed expression of amusement and confusion. He was far from concerned about modesty as he didn't try to catch the cover when it began to slip off, dangerously close to giving to full exposure.

Amelia, on the other hand, was nearly in shut down mode. She was making small inhuman noises as she tried to pull herself together. So she had taken the _bartender_ home. Wait that wasn't correct. He had taken _her_ home. She vaguely remembered him being the only one brave enough to approach her after she dumped a longneck over the head of an obsessive patron. After that, they had struck up conversation. She told him her drunken sob story and they had bonded over siblings, he had said something about a wayward sister in Vegas; bikes, he had recently crashed his and had yet to replace it for some reason that was currently fuzzy to her; and there was something else, but her mind was blanking, probably to preserve what little dignity she had left. Oh and the fact that they had screwed like rabbits in Spring. That could be called bonding too, right?

Shit. What was his name again? Allen? Aaron? Alex!

"You alright there?" Amelia was snapped out of her daydreaming and self-shaming. She had to give him a point or two for being concerned. Though the fact that he was lighting a cigarette was a little cliché.

"Yea. I-" She started, grabbing for her discarded shirt.

"-Good. Then you can show yourself out." He interrupted, speaking fairly clearly and forcefully for having a cancer stick lodged between his lips.

Amelia's jaw dropped slower than the New Year's Ball as she tried to comprehend what she had been just been told. "What?"

Puffing out a plume of smoke, Alex gave her a patronizing look. "You-" He pointed at her. "can walk-" Here he made a walking motion with two fingers. "yourself the hell out." Pointed towards the open bedroom door.

Searching for an ash tray, he never saw it coming.

* * *

Amelia wasn't proud of what she did. However that only applied to the events that shall not be named that had occurred the night before. What she had done that morning were some of her proudest moments in recent history. Sure she had a few bruises of her own, but she had aimed that clock so well and the way it had shattered…an art form.

It had taken a few hours of backtracking, but she finally found her bike. It jogged a few memories when she stepped into the gas station parking lot where she had left it. Across the street sat the dark and lifeless bar that she had been so attracted to the night before and now just looked like a pile of shit. That could have been a comparison for a certain _someone_ as well. Growling through her teeth, Amelia quickly went into the small store, purchasing a couple of bottles of Gatorade before kicking off angrily and put-putting her way back to the motel where her wonderful and kind broth-

"Amelia Eleanor Jones!" Alfred's voice boomed as soon as he swung the door open. He was ready to jump down her throat and crawl back up it until he saw her disheveled appearance and the slight discoloration on her lower jaw. His frenzy changed frequency. Mother-dearest suddenly went into Big-Brother Mode.

And Amelia wasn't having it at all. Shoving past the fretting hulk of a blond, she flopped herself on his bed, not even bothering with the blankets and blindly setting one of the drinks she had brought on the nightstand. There was white noise that sounded something like bitching from a distressed American, but she was too mentally and physically exhausted to try and pinpoint it.

Alfred, however, had other plans. He grabbed her shoulder, easily rolling her onto her back to have her face him. He was alarmed and she was going to talk-…or not. The look she was giving him made him retract his hand like it had been burned and it probably would have been if he kept it there.

"Let me sleep or I'll take your lil'_ peepee_ and shove it down your _food hole_…" She slurred sleepily, rolling over onto her stomach, shoving her face into the pillows. So she was twelve. Sue her. She wasn't going to talk about her brother's _dick _right now.

He had left her alone only because she seemed so tired. It had nothing to do with her threats or the probability of her going through with it. The fact that she disliked children did not come in and play on his fear of not being able to produce what would be her nieces and nephews. Not at all.

"We're talkin' later." He huffed with finality, sitting back in the rickety desk chair with his portable game system, ready for a long wait. Amelia just made a non-committal noise as she fell asleep before the sound even finished coming from her mouth.

* * *

They never spoke about it. Three days, they stayed in nearly complete silence, locked away from everything. Alfred was going stir crazy, having beat many of his games already, but he wasn't leaving his sister who had grown sullen and as dark as the shiner that had appeared soon after she had woken up. Each time he'd ask her about it, all he got in return for his efforts was a harsh glare. He really wished he had his truck done about now. They were living on take out and stale air. The American Dream.

In the few times they had spoken afterward, Amelia had agreed to stay and 'relax' until Alfred's truck was finished. Then they would head their separate ways. Amelia back to Dallas to try and see if she still had a job and Alfred off to Detroit to continue his exploration of his native land. Originally he was going out to Jersey, but some sort of viral epidemic was going on last time he checked the news stations, nearly a week ago, so he figured it best to avoid that area. In fact, Detroit would probably be his last stop as he had heard about some real heavy stuff coming out of the West coast. Of course, you couldn't believe some of the things social networking was putting up. If CNN just said to just stay inside if possible, it couldn't have been that big of a deal.

So when a call came in over a week later saying that he could pick up his truck the next day, Amelia suddenly brightened and, in turn, so did he. She was ready to put this overrated city in her rearview. She made plans to fill up her old Harley and then let Alfred 'show her the sights', or at least a few, before she headed out the following morning. It had been quiet around the neighborhood, at least for the northern Manhattan area, which was a boon compared to the shots they had heard fired off the night after her little rendezvous. Probably a gang war or something from the sounds of it and the way people had been acting jumpy and making themselves scarce. You'd almost think a hurricane was coming from the way quite a few of them just packed up and _left_ the area which put the twins more than a little one edge, not sure how this whole thing worked, but if locals were pulling out for short vacations, they would be best to get on their way as well before, as her brother so elegantly put it, 'this city turns into Tupac versus Biggy'.

* * *

_30 May, 2014_

Alfred was bouncing behind her when they pulled up to the gas station, jabbering on about all the places he knew in the city as if he were a local. Amelia ended up sending him inside to grab a few drinks to put in the saddle bags. It was still dark outside and the man was already full of energy. Amelia, the earlier riser she was, didn't understand how either. She hadn't even let him get his coffee yet.

"Yea. What do ya want? I can-…shit…" He pursed his lips as soon as the swear was out of his mouth.

"What? Leave your hair-straightener on at home?" Amelia snarked, not too concerned as she ran her card.

Alfred barked out a fake laugh. "No. I didn't pay for the room before we left." They still needed somewhere to crash for one more night and he still had things in there.

Giving him a sour look for a moment, she rolled her eyes. Well that was one more stop they would have to make. She just waved him off, trying to get done as soon as possible. It was early enough that there was no one crowding the around the pumps. While there was a tiny bit of city noise in the distance, she found a space between apartments, trying to peacefully watch the sun rise through the never-ending haze. It wasn't a Texas morning, but it would have to do. Still, it was ruined a bit by the bar in her peripheral vision. She had to give it the finger out of principle.

She didn't get much of a view anyway before she had to pay attention to what she was doing. With a full tank, all she needed was Alfred to get his sorry- Wait…how long had he been inside for now? Was it that hard to grab two cokes and a Snickers? Did he seriously get lost in a building about as big as a trailer house?

And the morning had started off so well too…

* * *

The moment Amelia stepped into the store, something deep inside of her was screaming at her to run, causing goose-bumps to run up her arms and neck. It was silly really. There was nothing out of the usual except for the fact that there was _no body_ to be seen. No customers. No cashier. No Alfred.

"Cute. C'mon this ain't funny anymore." She huffed, stepping away from the door, heading towards the restroom. This place was a bit of a mess now that she was walking through it. A few isles had products knocked onto the floor or streaks of filth from an unwashed floor. Wrinkling her nose, she tried to ignore the state of the store, Amelia raised her first to knock on the bathroom door. "Alf-" She was cut off by a hand covering her mouth and an arm wrapping around and pulling her back hard against someone's chest.

Adrenaline and panic kicked in, leaving her to lash out against the restraint. Her voice was muffled and her arms were trapped, but she wasn't going down in the god forsaken hell-hole of a city without a good ol' fashioned ass hopping' to whoever this person was.

It only took a solid thirty seconds for her to comprehend her aggressor wasn't being _aggressive. _Taking a deep breath, she got a head full of Axe and dust, something of motor exhaust and she realized a voice chanting a name in her ear. Blue eyes went up and met the frightened expression of-

"Alfred?" She whispered against his hand going lax. Something in the way he looked just put her on edge.

He released his hand from her mouth, still keeping a tight grip around her midsection, putting a finger to his lips as he stared straight at the door. Moving cautiously, he opened it, keeping his hand on the knob as he finished turning to keep it from making a noise.

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the show of delicacy, her gaze going from his face to where he was now looking with a horrified expression.

_Oh_. He had found the same freckled faced cashier whom she had purchased Gatorade from about a week prior. Seemed he was a little busy having heart taken out by some woman in a tight shirt, skinny jeans, and cheekbones so high, they cut through her skin.

Every word of that was literal.

Maybe this was a bad time.

With as much delicacy as he had used to open it, Alfred closed the door, looking more than a little pale, not that his sister was in much better shape. Both of them seemed to take a short breath at the same time before doing the logical thing.

They ran.

* * *

"What the ever-living _fuck_ was that?" Amelia asked in a higher than usual pitch, breathless after the two blocks that they had managed to traverse in what could probably have been a record time.

Alfred shook his head, just as breathless as she, but looking a little worse for wear. "She was _eating _him." And with that, he lost yesterday's dinner behind a barber shop on the edge of East Harlem. Amelia nearly followed suit, gagging a bit but managing to hold on to it.

About a minute in and Alfred managed to reign in his dry heaving, back flat against the cool brick building as he caught his breath again.

"So…" Amelia tried, not exactly sure what would constitute proper conversation after _that._ "...was that what you wanted to show me?"

There was a moment of silence, before both of them started in with morbid nervous laughter.

"I-I think we should…call the police" He got out in his frenzied state of shock.

Amelia just nodded along, not trusting herself to speak again just yet. There was also the fact that her phone had been missing since one certain night. That was a secret she was taking to the grave.

So Alfred made the call, and Alfred got a busy signal. Twice. Three times.

Furrowing his brow, he pulled his cell away from his face, staring at the device as it played. Since when did emergency services have automated messages? Was this a sick joke?

"Son of a-"

"Oh …_hell_." Amelia said breathily, wide-eyed, looking just over his shoulder.

Alfred whipped around, almost wishing he hadn't. He never did do well seeing people with mutilated faces and missing portions of their jaws outside of video games. Something about free hanging skin just never sat right in his stomach. Taking a step back, he _understood_ now.

_"…National State of Emergency. If you are receiving this message, please keep all doors and windows securely locked. Keep all pets and children inside. Do not try to confront or assist anyone with injuries or physical deformations at this time. Most states to the West of the Rockies, extending south and north of the borders have been placed under Military Governance. Do not attempt travel to these areas. States to the East should be on High Alert. Please prepare precautions at this time. This is a prerecorded message that will play on all government emergency systems…."_

* * *

For my darling MissAmeriko who wanted this on paper. Hope you wish to break my heart ;;

Blackbird Song by Lee Dewyze.

Characters are based off Hidekaz Himaruya's designs. Portrayals are based off individual Cosplayers.


	2. CH:2 By The Light Of Day

_"Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: _

_sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. _

_Because of these, the wrath of God is coming.. "_

_Colossians 3:5-6_

* * *

_20 May, 2014_

The door slammed just moments after Allie pulled herself from the shower. Rubbing her hair with the extra towel, she peeked out into the hotel room, finding it empty of the previous occupant. What a shame, he had been such great conversation too.

Stepping out of the doorway, she scanned the room, searching. Her clothes were strewn about the room. Shirt draped over the television. _Ten points_. Shorts on the chair. _Five_. One heel was sitting by the door, the other on the nightstand and- _Oh there it was._ Sauntering on over to the side table, she lifted her shoe, pulling a few bills from underneath. Five twenties and a fifty. He shorted her. _That asshole_…

No crying over spilt milk or lost profits. With a frustrated groan, Allie dropped the towel she had wrapped around her, setting the money down for a moment so she could pull her clothing on systematically. There wasn't a real urgency to her movements as the room had been paid for already and no one was going to come in, but this place was known for random busts and she didn't want to be subjected to one, not with what was hiding underneath the bible in the second drawer. Shame really. The place was a high-class roach motel and not staying the whole night seemed a bit rude.

Hearing a pack of sirens racing down the nearby Strip caused the twenty year old to pick up the pace a little, carrying her shoes in one hand and slipping her belongings into her pockets. One for the money, one for the little bag of heaven. Her cut offs and button-up covered enough to make it look appropriate. If she got stopped, she could just say she was going home from a party or something. Just because it was Tuesday didn't mean anything. People partied all the time, right?

With the practiced ease of someone who had done this far too many times before, she had herself dressed and the room cleared of anything incriminating within ten minutes and was out the door and checking out in less than five. Efficiency.

* * *

While she may have gotten a couple of odd looks, this was Vegas, so spotting a scantily clad _lady_ carrying her shoes down the strip wasn't a strange occurrence. What was strange was the small amount of traffic and the large number of uniformed men skirting along the area, some of them not local but military. A few more patrol cars flew by, making her wonder who the hell had been murdered. The Pope? Whatever it was, she gave it an hour before the crime was either swept under the rug or blasted on every news station in the country, along with its own following and merchandise chain. God Bless America.

Trying to keep herself from being caught on the wrong side of the law, Allie kept her head down. Metaphorically anyways because there was no way in hell she would be caught acting like some new twenty dollar hoe. She was confident in stride, playing it cool as she diverted from the beaten path near Toby Keith's, heading to a slightly lower keyed area. Less flash and money and more broken street lights and poverty. Much more homey in her humble opinion. She didn't really fear the narrow alleyways or dark corners, though she did keep an eye out for them.

Dropping down a dead end street, Allie made a sharp right into the corner convenience store, opening the door with a jingle.

"Welc- Oh it's you." The brunet behind the register seemed to lose his charm just as fast as he had pulled it together.

She gave him a nasty look, grabbing a small packet of trail mix on her way to the counter. "C'mon Toris. Tell me how much ya missed me." She purred, setting her shoes down on the surface before pulling herself up to perch beside them, legs crossed daintily because she was a _lady_.

"Yes…Like strep. I saw you this morning" He chirped off with only a slight accent and a small smile.

Tsking at him, she paid no mind nor money as she opened her self-claimed treat and started in on it. Allie practically dared the shop owner to call the cops on her. She knew he wouldn't, not with their history or the fact that he would be charged with harboring a former runaway and tax evader. That would look great on his records.

Toris had been the one to find her after the _Incident_, as she called it. The day that her newfound freedom didn't seem so sweet anymore. He'd taken her in and let her clean up without asking too many questions and when she went silent for days on end, he let her. Never once did he try to take advantage of the lost seventeen year old that slowly took on a Devil May Care attitude towards everything.

Only around six years older than her, and he seemed to have his life so well put together as well. He might not have had the most prosperous little shop, but it was his. Toris wasn't dealing or working the streets, so he was better off that many people in this city of sin.

Noticing he was staring every now and then, she tossed him a wink, causing him to roll his eyes and focus on diverting his attentions elsewhere. "You know all you have to do is ask, Pretty Boy." He might have been a little bit too obvious about the small crush he had had on her nineteenth birthday. While he was mostly over it nowadays, she loved to tease him from time to time. They would _never_, but the verbal flirting the two of them could do, especially where alcohol was involved, would make a sinner cross themselves and Hail Mary.

Toris didn't even look up or bat an eyelash. "You're going to get pregnant and die."

Allie gave him a strange stare as he hustled about, cleaning behind the counter. She almost wanted to laugh if it wasn't so sad. "That blond tramp made you watch Mean Girls again."

He sighed, giving her a sour look. "He's not a tramp. Feliks' is just umm…outwardly expressive. Yes. That's it." If all else failed, he could blame his choppy English for anything offensive that may be said.

"Uhuh…whatever. I'm safe." She said with a snort, grinning ear to ear. "…but if I ever do get pregnant, please shoot me." Jokingly said, she still looked uncomfortable with the subject.

It seemed to be an epidemic of sighing every time she came around, as he let out another rush of air, glancing up at her once more. Normally, he didn't like to keep eye contact. He felt like a right ass, but her eyes unnerved him a bit. They were a mixture of strange browns, bordering on burgundy that, in the right light, managed to have a red tint. It could be unnerving to have her staring you down.

However, he had no problem staring at her now. There was more black than color in them.

"Allie…are you high?" Toris looked ready to berate her for every bad life choice she had ever made, half of it in his native Lithuanian most likely, his eyes narrowing slowly as she looked off to the side, a lax grin on her face.

She was saved by the bell, literally, as the door swung open, and two women came in. Well. One blonde came in, the smaller one however, stumbled, obviously having had one or six too many. Toris immediately gave Allie a 'you are going to get it, young lady' look before turning on his managerial charm.

"Ah. Yes. Do you mind helping me get- oh Madeline. Please stand up straight." The heavier set woman started to ask before her drunken companion nearly performed a perfect ninety degree slouch, mumbling something about her 'darling being unfair' and 'why did they have to come to such a busy place'.

With the experience of a man who had worked the night shift far too many times, Toris immediately pointed to his left. "Bathroom's that way." He said, a little sympathetic for the other woman who was about to become a Grade A hair holding buddy for the swaying blonde whom had taken to mumbling off arguments of her sobriety.

Taking her chance, Allie jumped down off her perch, grabbing her shoes in the same swift motion. "Call me when your perky new hire lets comes in to switch out with ya." She ignored his attempts to start up conversation again deftly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, she's only eighteen, Honey." There was sarcasm behind there, not too well hidden either. Ever since Toris told her that he had brought on a new girl from Belgium, she had been giving him hell, making insinuations to his possible tastes in younger women and his status as a 'player'.

He took it all with a loving grain of salt and the threat of a restraining order.

She was nearly out the door when she ran smack into a wall of human fat, muscle, and smelling of cheap vodka. She sneered at him. Well, it was more towards his shoulders at first. No man should be that much taller than six foot. He had to of been around just half a foot shy of the seven mark.

He didn't seem to be too pleased with her either. Giving the dark America cool look, he brushed past, not finding her worth his time, instead finding the brunet more interesting.

Allie wasn't in the least bit pleased with being ignored so flippantly. Who was he to give her the stare down? Contact wearing, or so she figured because who else had eyes so blue they were nearly violet, ass-hat. She was about to give the tall blond a piece of her mind and possibly something that followed along the lines of 'physical altercation' until she noticed that Toris was still looking at her, ready to drag her into the break room and give her a verbal lashing. This wasn't her first rodeo and she wasn't up for another one. So like anyone would have done, she made a quick tactical retreat.

* * *

Toris wasn't too happy with the young woman's behavior. He could never get anything out of her about her own family, so he cared for her like a little sister nowadays and her life choices were less than savory. Yet he _wasn't_ her real family so what control did he have? She was grown and could make her own decisions.

Besides, he had his own problems to deal with.

Like the large intimidating men who seemed either lost or three seconds from robbing him blind.

"Can I help you?" He asked a bit cautiously, edging back behind the counter, just in case.

The man stared at him for a few tense moments, seemingly sizing the somewhat shorter and slighter man up. Toris was almost holding his breath until the blond gave him a smile that seemed to fit a child than a grown man.

"I am waiting for my sestra. This is fine, yes." He chirped a bit too happily when it was obvious he was daring the Lithuanian to tell him otherwise.

Toris didn't want to get into it with the man, so he just went with it, suspecting one of the girls in the restroom was his 'sestra'. If things got sketchy, there was the Heckler under the cash register that he put quite a bit of trust in.

The two of them had a few minutes of awkward silence before the women pulled themselves back out. The one who had been stumbling before seemed to have sobered up a bit, making Toris cringe at the possible mess he was going to have to deal with, and was now leaning against the other less out of necessity and more as what seemed an exhausted and friendly gesture.

"Sorry." The woman apologized to him with a disgusted look on her face. Toris noticed that her eyes seemed to have a gray-blue mix that almost came across as a hazy lilac. It was striking and he had to force himself to keep from staring for too long.

"Gum's over there." He pointed out, half in sales mode, half sympathetic to her plight. He did not wish to be in her shoes right then.

Seemingly thankful for his direction, 'Lilac' pushed off her friend and swayed her way over to where he had pointed, grabbing a bottle of water as well.

"Wild party?" Toris asked akwardly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ah. No." The busty blonde answered, seeming to try and think of her words. "We..umm-"

"We're here on our honey-moon. Because someone said Niagara was _overplayed_." The other girl hissed as she pulled her head out of the drink cooler, cause her partner to begin to get a dusting of red across her cheekbones.

At first, Toris thought she was talking about the large man and 'Lilac', but from the way he huffed and chuckled playfully and the reaction of the other girl, he quickly made up a different interpretation. Well this _was_ Las Vegas. He'd already seen it all by his first week here and by now his mind was more open than many natural born Americans.

"Oh. Congratulations then." He said genuinely happy for them, trying to ignore the vigilant gaze from 'Big Brother', who seemed to be judging his reaction.

"Thanks." 'Lilac' said gruffly, most likely still teetering on the edge of sobriety, as she set down her items on the counter. "Also, can you tell us how to get to-"

They all jumped at the loud smack on the glass door.

"What…" Toris asked before his face went slack in horror. Outside, what he figured was a heavyset man, was clawing at the window, face smashed against the frame as he pushed his weight against it. They could see a compound fracture on his left arm and a gash that revealed one too many vital organs across his midsection. The combat uniform was barely noticeable beneath the grit, grim, and unrecognizable substances that covered him. Blood smeared heavily each time he moved, nearly putting a thin coating on the panel within a few seconds.

There was a breath before one of the girls let out a scream that may have shattered the glass if they had been in a fictional story. However, with this being reality, it only enticed the creature outside to try harder and the men to act.

The larger one pulling the girls towards and behind him while Toris used one hand to reach for the gun and the other for the phone.

Emergency services only gave him a busy signal, so with the caution of a deer during hunting season, the Lithuanian skittered around the counter, speaking loudly, trying to get the man's attention, only seeming to rile him up as gurgled noises came from him. The gun in plain sight in his right hand, he moved forward, trying to figure out what kind of practical joke this was. No one would be this energetic if those kinds of injuries were legitimate.

"Okay. Sir. I need you to calm down so I can help you. Please." He said as he reached for the door.

* * *

Allie woke with a start as she felt the ground shake beneath her. The first thought to cross her mind was an earthquake, but the sounds that accompanied the movement was nothing like any seismic activity she'd ever experienced before. A few odds and ends managed to find their way to the floor. Toris wouldn't be too happy that his favorite vase now had a chip in it. Oh well. Thing was hideous anyway.

Before she could put too much thought into it, it ended as soon as it had started. Outside, car alarms were sounding from every which way and a few scattered voices of panic flared up here and there. So maybe the Earth had found a new way to screw with them.

Sitting up on the couch she'd passed out on, Allie stretched and tried moving her legs, only to find she couldn't.

"Louis. Get the fuck off me, Fatass." She demanded playfully, pushing the red-tricolored Aussie off of her lower body. He tried to get back up, but failed to do so before she swung her legs down to the ground. With a nervous whine, he tucked himself behind her legs and the couch, his skin rippling slightly as high pitched keens came from him at random intervals.

His unusual behavior worried Allie, who blamed it on the earth's temper tantrum. She turned on the television to try and see how big this one had rated on the Richter scale.

_"…no casualties have been reported. We go live now to the scene of the explosion that has rocked Upper Las Vegas, speculations have …We're sorry, we seem to have lost contact with…"_

Allie had her hands on her cell before they could finish.

No new text. No missed calls. It was already almost seven, an hour after Toris was supposed to call her to tell her he was on his way home. Awesome. Perfect day to start being irresponsible and actually do something _she_ would do.

She made to call him, but the lock turned and door flew open just as she was about to hit dial.

"You are the worst type or pers-…the fuck?" There was a note of anxiety as she took note of the person, no, _people _hurrying into the foyer. Last time she had seen this merry band of travelers, they had been lacking the freely splattered blood-stains and didn't look nearly as _haunted._

"Yo. Pretty boy? Did you kill a few people, Jesus?!" The mood was infectious, causing her to become increasingly agitated and nervous as he ordered the others to lock and bar the doors and first floor windows, covering them if possible. She pointed to the looming male. "And what the fuck is he doing here?" Allie hissed, puffing up like a cat as she spoke of him. There were some people that even without speaking a word, you just knew that you would not get along with them, even if you were the last two people on planet earth. He was that person.

Louis didn't seem to have the same problem as the 'guard dog' quickly sidled up to the man, even getting a few comforting pats on the head. Fucking traitor.

"Allie please." Toris warned, pushing past her. "Go into the kitchen and get non-perishables and put them in a plastic bag." Yes. Food was much more important than explanation of why they looked and smelt like Hell warmed over twice.

"Are you kidding me?!" Was this some kind of European thing? A drill of some sort? In the three years she had lived with him, he'd never acted anything like _this_.

"Just- hold on. " He grunted as he pulled down a box from the utility closet, immediately causing Allie to stiffen. She knew what was in that lockbox and wanted no part of it. So when he pulled out a pistol similar to the one he kept at the store, she leaned away. However, they shared looks, his of counsel and hers of alarm, and she knew he would never have done anything of the like if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Taking the piece cautiously, she double checked the safety before shoving it in her waist-band unceremoniously and heading to the kitchen where one of the visitors had already started on his orders.

"My name is Madeline. Maddie. I don't care. That's Katyusha and Ivan." 'Maddie' offered with an unnerved tone when she noticed the wary look she was getting from the dark redhead as she rushed around gathering things. Not like she cared too much right now though. She had much bigger fish to fry at the moment, like what she had seen and what they had _done_.

"Alright then, _Blondie_. You wanna tell me what's got my boy all up in knots?" Allie asked, not liking the stressed tension going on here.

Madeline opened her mouth to answer, but cut off when a Russian curse filtered in, sending her scrambling towards the source. Allie followed, hot on her heals, the others seeming to have the same idea to gather around the half covered window.

Outside, a group of about fifteen mangled soldiers wandered about in the beautiful rays of sunrise, most clawing at the still screeching cars, but some were easily grabbing people who had gone outside after the explosion and were thinking the men needed assistance. If anyone had ever wanted to see the various ways a person could be disemboweled with nothing but hands and teeth, there was a prime example playing out right in front of them. It was a right mess and only Allie could have put it so elegantly.

"What the ever living flying_ shit _is that clusterfuck of 'Aw Hell Naw'?"

* * *

Written to: I See Fire - Jasmine Thompson

Still too short of chapters :I


	3. CH:3 Dead is Dead

_There are many victories worse than defeat_

_-George Elliot_

* * *

_30 May, 2014_

Between the two of them, Amelia and Alfred were on their way to becoming Olympic runners. Neither of them had participated in track and field since the beginning of freshman year of high school, but both of them were easily breaking personal bests at the moment and they weren't even close to being done. Not with the small horde of grotesquely disfigured beings oh so casually moan and groaning, a decomposed hot mess right on their heels.

At first, they figured it some been some stupid festival. Yea. The whole thing had to be a set up right? Some Day of the Dead type stuff going on here. Something built around a morose city slicker holiday where people painted open wounds, faked compound fractures, and used gummy innards for an extreme dramatic effect. All because the entirety of New York City was here to two fuck with these two country folk in particular.

Wishful thinking was one thing.

Reality was a whole other ball game…

Luckily, Alfred had played Black Ops one too many times and he knew the Zombie maps inside and out. He could duck and weave, AB, left right left, roll and headshot like no other. He even had a regional championship under his belt and while the layout and play of a virtual game was insignificant information, he did know two very crucial things. One: The undead were very persistent motherfuckers. Two: Don't. Get. Bit.

And they tell you that video games don't teach you anything.

While he wasn't doing any extreme tucking and rolling right now, he _was_ holding his sister's wrist in a world class death grip, not having to really pull too hard to get her to trail along as they ran nearly blind, following what few landmarks they could recognize in the unfamiliar city streets, ducking in and out of open areas and unconsciously ignoring some scarce panicked screams from behind where the heaviest part of the mob was still struggling to keep up with the two adrenaline-pumped whole-bodied adults.

The gas station hadn't been but a solid two miles from the motel and they had only managed to get a few blocks farther in their initial sprint, however, the difference between riding a motorized bike and running for your life were a couple of mind numbing hours and more than a few close calls . They hadn't the time or mind set to go back for the vehicle and by the time they had realized their mistake, they had already hit the halfway mark between the two points and decided to just continue to book it back to the safety of locked windows and a bolted door.

By the grace of good luck and unrecognized and victimized bystanders, the two blondes managed to just barely squeeze past and shake the herd which had gotten distracted by the new community and food source, practically collapsing against the motel room door, both of them hardly able to keep their bodies panting hard enough to keep air in their lungs, while Alfred fumbled with his wallet for the card key.

"Would you hurry-" Amelia's voice was jumping a few pitches with every little nighttime noise.

"Shut up. I'm-" He ended up dropping both coins and condoms from his wallet, not bothering to pick them up. There were a few more important issues going on. The inhuman sounds that echoed through the concrete jungle were fueling his frantic digging. Funny how slight apocalyptic conditions could suddenly rearrange your wallet while simultaneously turning it into a black hole.

"Alfred Fredrick-" Well. Amelia, at least, was easily distracted from the worldly problems or at least she was allowing herself to be right now. Despite the impending doom, she still found the energy to have another thought going through her head. 'Off to see the world' he had told her. 'Off to see the world' her _lily-white ass_. Since when did the 'world' need protection from STD's and baby juices?

"Don't use my- Oh…Yes!" He scrambled to pull the key from the side pocket he had tucked it back into, hands trembling from more than just exhaustion as he slipped it into the lock, nearly crying in relief as the little green light lit up.

Putting the little scuff on the back burners, the siblings piled into the room, collapsing on to the bed in a heap of limbs and protesting noises.

"We almost died." Alfred gasp out as soon as he could pull enough air into his lungs for complete sentences. His words were still a bit muffled, his cheek shoved against the comforter as he lay exactly where he had fallen, Amelia no longer on top of him as she originally had been because 'it was hot and he was sweaty and nasty'. Not that she was fairing much better.

"What the hell was-" She gasped out in disbelief of what they had just experienced.

Suddenly, the two of them were hit with a ten ton bag of reality. What had they just lived through? Within seconds, they were scrambling up and to their feet, fatigue be damned. Amelia latched onto the windows, checking the seals and tucking in the curtains, taking the sheets off the bed for a second layer between them and the outside world. Her brother worked the door, putting the chain in place and dead bolting it shut. The desk was perfect to slide against it and within minutes, the two of them had holed up as best they could, pushing the bed against the farthest wall. It was in that queen sized bed that the two of them huddled through the day and well into the evening, whispering fervently over what their next moves were.

Supplies could wait until it was absolutely necessary. After all, they still had some day old lo mein in the mini fridge.

* * *

_33 May, 2014_

It only took three days for the two of them to run out of their college level provisions. Fortunately, Alfred occasionally had snacking binges and Little Debbies and dill pickles don't expire within a normal human's lifetime. Unfortunately, they could only go so long on those, with the nervous eating of two creating an even bigger dent in their stockpile. Though Alfred didn't have much competition for the fancy cucumbers. The black eye he got from trying to get Amelia to 'show him how to suck it _good_' was totally worth it.

In the span of their short shut in, the insignificant mob that had been chasing them just days before,made short work of the neighborhood that they had suddenly been attracted it to. What had been evacuated streets suddenly became a spotty parade of mobile undead rotting flesh. Cell phone service was spotty at best, completely failing by the third day along with the water heaters. The lights seemed just about ready to go as well, flickering at odd times and occasionally going out for a few minutes at a time. Just the kind of obstacle they needed when food and patience were running on empty.

Amelia had developed a habit of sitting between the sheet and main curtain, peeling the cloth behind to watch the passing creatures with a perverse interest. Thrice did Alfred have to yank her from the glass when someone walked too close for comfort. Those outside may have been dead, but they obviously had some mode of tracking going for them. Observations and personal experience had attested to that, the twins just didn't have a clue about what kind of senses were left with post mortem.

Pulling his sister away from the window once again, Alfred sighed, tossing one of the last little cakes at her.

"Why did we leave Texas again?" He joked flatly and if Amelia's face was anything to go on, she was not even close to amused.

"Oh some Jack-Wagon decided to needed to do a cross country Slut-A-Thon." She glared at him, begrudgingly accepting the sweet patty, sick of all the sugar she had consumed the past few days.

Alfred looked thoroughly embarrassed, sputtering excuses. "I told ya, those have been in there for years. Better safe than sorry, ya know."

Amelia only rolled her eyes and huffed, not as upset about it as she may have seemed. She refused to be an aunt so early in life, but Alfred was a big boy now and allowed to make his own decisions. The running argument had simply become a distraction from the collapsing society outside the walls of their little world.

"We need to get out of here." She mumbled around the bite she had just taken, eyes darting warily between her brother and a tiny silver of morning light peeking in through where the window covering had yet to be replaced.

Alfred only bit his lip at first. Outside was not somewhere he really wanted to go, but they knew that they needed to make a move soon unless they wanted to wait yet another day. The things were much more active during the night time and were multiplying every day, waiting wasn't a viable option at this point.

"Yes but-" He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The shop is a good ways away." Speaking of the truck that had just finished repairs. It seemed their best option for getting out of the city. Well, getting to Amelia's iron baby, then skipping town. She had already made it quite clear that a bunch of undead Yankees weren't getting such a beautiful piece of country sweat and blood. Alfred had considered talking her out of it, but between the fact that his truck was even farther out and the motorcycle could get them there faster and then there was the look his sister gave him when he opened his mouth to object. Bottom line, the bike was coming.

They fashioned weapons out of snapped bedposts. It wasn't as if they were strapped out for an old school bloodbath, but blunt force trauma was a bitch and would do the job. Maybe they would find something better along the way, but hotels didn't come with complimentary shotguns anymore thanks to the Liberals and Obama, or at least that what Fox would tell you.

They also emptied out one of Alfred's bags, an old backpack that he had mostly kept his gaming supplies in. The plan was to go get the vehicles and come back to pick up their stuff. They would make a pit stop in the gas station the bike was parked at for food and water to take with them. The final destination would be anywhere but the city. For all they knew, New York was the epicenter, as it was in every Hollywood film, thus getting away from the place meant safely escaping the danger. Amelia was already cooking up plans to hogtie her brother and drag him back home to Texas. Alfred wasn't thinking much farther ahead than the shitstorm that was upper Manhattan. Short term goals were his forte.

* * *

They ended up leaving the room like a SWAT team, wooden stakes at the ready, Alfred low, Amelia high. As luck would have it, the midday heat had slowed everything down and the majority of the undead populous had migrated farther into the Manhattan Island, overtaking the downtown areas where people were still trapped, leaving the outer projects and suburbs clear of all but a few stragglers. They would have to move fast to keep this window open.

It was smooth sailing for the first mile towards the station, as much as one could expect when you were having to duck and weave to avoid detection by slow moving brain munchers, but the two only had so much good fortune and they were starting to run on fumes.

It was almost half a mile away when they were finally attacked. It was on May thirty-third, in his twenty-second year, Alfred F. Jones killed his first biter. One of many.

It had been on complete accident. The thing had blind-sided them, coming from one of the darker alleys, dragging a bad leg and missing a good portion of its midsection. The dangling intestines were a better accent than earrings, especially with the fact that its left ear was missing along with all the skin on that side of its face. It was a real winner in the looks department and it had nearly startled the twins to the point of an anxiety attack. Alfred, after a sharp squeal had felt a sudden need for bravado and stepped between it and his sister, trembling as he watched it eye them hungrily. When it lunged, instinct and reflex took over and he wielded his broken post like a spear, shoving the splintered end straight through the mouth that was so close too nipping at his forearm. The body hit the cement like a sack of flour, not even twitching in the throes of death.

To say he freaked out was an overstatement but to say he didn't start making inhuman noises while close to tears would be a lie.

Amelia, not having just killed a once-was-human with a impressive blood splatter, had to be the level headed one, yanking the embedded post with a sickening squelch that nearly had them both losing what little breakfast they had eaten.

However, the noise that the little skirmish had made attracted more of those wandering around nearby. They attempted to outrun them at first, but they still had a few hundred feet left before they stash themselves away in the station when they realized some of them were coming in from the direction they were headed.

"Shit!" Alfred exclaimed as he pulled them both to a dead stop, his stomach still untying itself from his earlier experience.

"Well put." Amelia was already adjusting her grip on her makeshift weapon, trying to find the best way to utilize it.

After that, it was a blur of wood, groans, and two sets of blue eyes frightened and tormented by what they were being forced to do to live.

Whether it their faith or the natural effect of the will to survive, the two of them managed to end up leaning against each other, a good six of seven bodies littered around, pieces scattered about. The siblings seemed almost haunted by the sight. They had been attacked by the mob, their lives hanging in the balance, but the gruesome act itself was a heavy thing.

"I…don't ever want to do that again." Amelia looked away from her brother as he spoke, trying to hide a small thrill that danced across her skin. Sure she felt the gravity of the situation, but something was poking at her, trying to soothe her and convinced her that is wasn't as awful as it seemed.

"I agree." She finally choked out, brow wrinkling as she heard scuffling behind them. Doing a quick turnabout, she was face to face with one of the creatures that she was pretty sure she had busted both the kneecap and hipbones of. She didn't even have time to scream and it was probably for the best, seeing as she may have gotten blood in her mouth as the head practically exploded in front of her. Rather than a grotesque visage, her vision was filled with ash wood that had a few newly pounded nails sticking out of the upper half.

Amelia's eyes traveled up the piece timber, resting on a smug grin she had hoped to never see in this lifetime.

"What are you doing here?" She rushed out in one quick breath.

"Good to see you too, Sugar-Tits."

* * *

Having Alex around again put the blonde woman at a sense of unease that only added to the fact that the city was crawling with flesh eating creatures now. However, they did get a lot of information for the New Yorker.

Alex's apartment was closer the lower part of the island, which would explain Amelia's confusion when she tried to find her bearings when she left it, and had seen the brunt of the infection first hand. He said 'infection' because he had seen what the bite of one of these things did to a person. A neighbor and friend had been unfortunate enough to get caught up by one when the whole ordeal was still in the early phases. Thinking it was some vicious case of bath salts or something. It had taken less than ten hours for his neighbor to go from slightly injured to dead and no more than five minutes after that was he back up again, chewing on his girlfriend's liver like it was turkey at Thanksgiving dinner. Alex had taken the living room lamp and broken it across his head. A few more close encounters and he had found that those headshots were the only way to kill these things for good.

He didn't go into depth about his escape from downtown, only saying that it was a 'fucking mess down there.' And not one in their right mind should even attempt to go. Judging from the way his face morphed when he said that, they would just take his word on it. No need to try and prove him wrong.

Apparently, he had been staying at his bar, holing up until he could find his way out of the big city. Without a vehicle of his own, it was becoming increasingly difficult to get any further. Hotwiring a car would require a lookout once the car alarm went off, attracting hordes of those walking dead. Breaking into houses farther out carried the same danger and he didn't really want to end up smashing in someone's window while they were still living in it, not with concealed carry so popular in America.

As he went through his account, Amelia noticed a look on her brother's face that she didn't want to see. She knew exactly what he was thinking with that 'everybody is a friend' complex of his, and before she could stop him, Alfred did the unthinkable, he asked him to tag along with them. Most eyes to watch each other's backs.

And to her absolute horror, Alex agreed. The man didn't exactly mention that it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He had no family, at least none that he knew the location or status of. He just wanted out of this place and then he'd figure out his next plan of action once he saw how the rest of the nation was faring.

* * *

"We'll that…was fucking nasty." Alex shook the wood out, grimacing at the gore stains that were starting to set in the grain. Great. This was a classic bat and now it had hooker blood all over it.

"Hey. Show a lil' respect man." The blond wasn't having any of it, already finding this whole thing straining the very ethical fibers of his being. He was getting the hang of it, if that was something you could do when smashing heads in, after being outside for nearly an hour with the creatures starting to pick up steam due to the metal clanking that reverberated through the eerily silent streets. "She's a person ya know?"

The darker skinned man gave him a patronizing look. "Naw. She's dead. Been dead. Probably a lot longer than we think…at least on the inside." He snorted, toeing the body to make sure it wasn't getting up again. "Probably had daddy issues and ran away from home-" Alex stopped short, not finishing out that train of thought. There were just some things that needed to stay unsaid.

Alfred just gave him a dirty look, not noticing the brief bout of tension in the darker man's demeanor nor moving to stop Alex from continuing his inspection of the corpse. "It's a job. I hear it's one of the oldest professions in the world."

"Ok, Poindexter. I'm sure if anyone knows about them, it's you." Healthy young man visiting New York for the first time, one could only guess the kinds of trouble the blond had gotten into. Well, before all the 'bitches and hoes' turned out to be dead and rotten.

Alfred's red face was more than evidence enough of his pre-Amelia adventures. "I don't wanna hear it from you!" He sputtered out in weak defense.

Raising a brow, Alex made an amused noise in the back of his throat. "Sorry, but I have higher standards than that." He lazily let his eyes trail off to the side, falling directly on Amelia who had finally managed to dislodge the bike from a four car barricade that had built up over the past few days.. "…usually." He amended with a more than slightly disgusted look.

Alfred went through a range of emotions. At first he was confused but as the light bulbs started flashing and the wheels turning, he understood completely. That explained how his sister knew some random guy from New York. How dare she condemn him for carrying _condoms_?

If the indignant squawk Amelia suddenly made was anything to go on, she had heard every single word.

Amelia learned that her throwing arm wasn't as strong as she thought.

Alex learned that tire irons left darker bruises than clocks

* * *

The trio spent a good ten minutes pulling supplies from the now abandoned station. Well, semi-abandoned. There was a banging in the restroom that they suspected was the woman from before, trapped and starving after having finished off her meal of teenaged cashier. They agreed to just leave her be and pretend she didn't exist.

"Alfred. If you grab one more pack of Cheetos…" Amelia trailed off, grabbing an armful of Lunchables and other pre-packed meals, things with substance rather than freeze dried cheese powder, and tossing them into plastic bags she had borrowed from behind the counter. Just because she made sure there was a little extra space for a bag of Jolly Ranchers did not mean she wasn't completely mission oriented. A girl was allowed at least one small pleasure when the world was going to shit.

The blond huffed and set the bag back on the self, instead throwing as many beef sticks as he could into the side pocket of the backpack that was already heavily laden with water bottles and a few medical supplies.

Alex had taken to collecting on his own. He wasn't exactly more disciplined than the twins, the few cans of beer in the bottom of his own bags, but he was much more efficient and through with his packing. A veteran father seemed to have its perks at times. Double bagging the heavier items, he ensured he wouldn't die of the basic necessities or anything that could be fixed with a Tylenol and gauze, at least not for a good week.

"Hey, Chubs, did you grab-" He had turned to ask Alfred a simple question about lighters and butane, but there was an all too familiar sound that caused all of them to stop dead in their tracks.

Pulling the chiming phone from his pocket, Alex quickly scanning the screen. He slid his finger across the screen, the corners of his mouth tightening around the edges as the sound faded out and he just stared.

"Who was it?" Alfred asked excitedly, hoping for some sort of miracle outside contact that was going to pull them out of this hell-hole.

When there was no answer, Amelia huffed, trying a more demanding route. "Hey, Dick-Hole. He asked you a question."

The dark haired man's eyes slipped from the phone, up to the twins, eyes lingering on Amelia for a moment, something brewing behind there.

Amelia held strong eye contact but for a moment before she looked more towards his shoulder, unnerved when looking directly into them. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about the way the light refracted through the glass, angled just right and glared against the rim of his irises, the peculiar scarlet glow it kicked up, there couldn't have been another set like that on this Earth and they sent shivers down her spine. She always managed to pick up the dangerous ones.

"It was my alarm." Alex announced with an air of finality, leaving no room to question it as his demeanor went even more uninviting. The phone precariously close to being crushed in his hand at that moment.

Alfred shrugged it off as a product of the false alarm, but his sister was on her guard, not liking the way he kept looking at her as he prowled over to the cashier's counter again, searching for something that, once found, he slipped into the back waistband of his pants. Her eyes narrowed, already drawing up a conclusion, but not wanting to call him out on it just yet if she was correct.

"I think we should get moving." He mentioned a short time later, trying to sound uninterested, but there was some urgency behind his voice. "Go put those in the bike, Thunder-Thighs…" He motioned to a few of his own bags that he had set off to the side.

Growling and mumbling the whole way, Alfred complied, if only to get away from the self-appointed leader if but for a moment.

Amelia kept gabbing last minute things, knowing that not all of it would fit in the saddle bags, but they all had working arms and backs. They would make it work. Of course, with her attention divided, she didn't notice anything until two tanned arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against him.

Her initial reaction was to fight, throwing a few elbows that hit _something_. Still, Alex was not too phased, instead, resting his head on her shoulder and speaking in hushed but sharp tones that release huffs of air against her exposed neck.

"Sorry about earlier, Butter-Cup." He purred, nearly chuckling when he felt her go ridged. He remembered her weak spot quite clearly. "Couldn't have your brother suspecting anything more than a fling."

That had Amelia panicking. There was more than a fling? She squirmed as she felt hands wander a little too personally for comfort along the edges of her pants. There was a heat creeping along her collar bone and she wasn't sure if it was anger, embarrassment, a mix of the two, or a little something else that she refused to admit she was feeling right now.

As those hands got a little more adventurous, he placed a light peck on the bottom of her throat, sending her into overdrive and giving her enough get-up to break away from him, screeching like a banshee.

Alex's hands were up and out in surrender by the time she turned around. "Don't you ever…" She hissed out, trying to regain her composure.

He snickered, a lopsided grin on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Okay okay. Don't worry. I won't bother you again, _babe_." He took a few steps backwards before turning to exit, brushing past Alfred whom had burst back in upon hearing his sister's scream.

"What the hell did you do to her?" He was met with a glass door shutting in his face. Not caring if the New Yorker was alone outside or not, Alfred quickly set up shop beside Amelia, fretting over her like a mother hen.

"Did he touch you? Where? Are your no-no squares alright? Did he get you pregnant? Oh God, is it AIDS? Amelia, are you-" He was cut off by her hand suddenly shooting up and smashing his cheeks together between her fingers and thumb.

"Shut up. Nothing happened. He just-"

It was then that a fire was lit under the Texas woman's ass. Her eyes grew large as she heard the beautiful rumble of her baby start up, rev once, twice. Her head snapped to the glass paneling along the front of the store and she locked eyes with Alex for the briefest of moment, receiving a two fingered salute before he kicked off, stirring up some loose gravel as he rode away.

Never had a woman wished for blood as much as she in those moments.

* * *

Wake Me Up - Avicii

I just realized other people are reading this...but why?

Anywho, I figured a character list is in order for those unfamiliar.

**New York**

Alex: 2p America.

Alfred: America

Amelia: NyoAmerica

**Las Vegas**

Toris: Lithuania

Allie: 2p NyoAmerica

Ivan: Russia

Madeline: NyoCanada

Katyusha: Ukraine.


End file.
